Alea Iacta Est
by battyderp
Summary: The life of Lucius Vorenus has not been an easy one. Alas, we have only witnessed a portion of it. There are so many years left unexplored, with only vague details to satisfy our curiosity. What happened in the time we did not see? What made him the man we know today?


_A/N: Hello, lovelies! This idea came to me a few days ago when I was desperate to write some more for Rome; honestly, I have never had so much fun getting into character's heads then when I write for that amazing show, no matter how brief the fic. I have the next few chapters mapped out, but they are not yet written. I'll get right on to changing that, ahaha! Basically – yep, you guessed it – the story will follow Lucius Vorenus' life, or at least my take on it. I swear to you I will try to stick as true to what little facts we know about his early life, but there is such an empty slab to work with, so stick with me. If you happen to fine anything you think might be an error or need changing, don't be afraid to tell me!_

_It shouldn't be that long, as it will end when they are just getting ready for Caesar's conquest of Gaul, when Vorenus has been promoted to a Centurion. But hopefully, it'll be okay aha. Oh, and a few of the chapter titles will be in Latin, and since it doesn't seem to compute to Google translate, I'll be telling you what each one means. The title, 'alea iacta est', was said as Julius Caesar was crossing the Rubicon. 'The die is cast'._

_Thank you, darlings, and review if you like. You have no idea how much they mean to me. c:_

_Enjoy!_

_xx_

Marius was restless.

His pale green gaze continually drifted away from his brother to instead focus on the world outside their home; apparently, the song of the sparrow was far more important than a decent education. Granted, as decent as someone scarcely two years your senior can give you. The early morning sun filtered in, filling the small room and warming their backs and the sides of their faces. Outside the safe confines of their house, a gentle breeze stirred the leaves on the trees and the drying grass in the paddocks. Unlike the patrician class back in Rome, Lucius' low-born family could not afford the luxury of sleeping in late and wasting away in their beds whilst slaves fanned them and fed them perfect grapes; on the contrary, they were forced to rise with the sun. But Lucius saw it not as a burden, but simply as a way of life. It was how he had been raised – he knew no better.

"Marius." Lucius' voice was rife with the authority he held as the eldest brother, naturally commanding, but he cursed himself for the affectionate exasperation that was evident in it. Heaving a sigh, he lashed out a hand and placed it on top of his younger brother's messy mop of light brown hair, turning his head back to face him, careful to be gentle and do no harm, but just strong enough for Marius to know it was intended as a light warning. "You must pay attention. How else are you going to learn to read, or write, or do anything more than daydream?"

His brother shook him off with a scowl. "But I want to play," he replied with a huff. "With you. Outside. In the sun."

"You've done enough playing," Lucius retorted, sliding the wax tablet across the table with enough force he was rewarded by a splinter. Despite the gritting of his teeth, his surprise and momentary flash of pain was unnoticeable; carefully, he slid his hand under the table and began to pick at the tiny shard of wood with his thumb, his other hand remaining firmly planted on the tablet. "_Read_."

"No." His sibling stared him down defiantly, despite the fact he was far smaller and scrawnier than him. He could conjure up the stubbornness and will power of a bull when he truly wished to, and this was one of those dreaded moments. Marius shoved the tablet away with his smaller hand, before drawing back to fold his arms across his chest, leaning against the spine of the chair. "And you can't make me, Lucius."

The fiery-haired boy quirked his eyebrows, leaning forward. It sounded to him like a challenge. He opened his mouth to shoot back an order, perhaps an 'oh, really?' (naturally, he could have their father beat him, but Lucius had sworn an oath to the Gods – that he would always protect his baby brother, no matter what, no matter who he had to kill or if he had to die himself. What greater honour than to die for a brother?), but Marius was already out of his chair as fast as a skink and rushing for the front door. Lucius was faster. Letting out a growl – half-amused, half-irritated at being defied despite the fact he was so young – he darted around the table and leapt over a chair, heading around the other side of the room in an attempt to cut his brother off.

Marius let out an odd combination of a squeal, a yelp and a laugh as Lucius caught up to him and fastened his arms around his chest, heaving him up off the ground. He wasn't too strong, however, no matter how much he boasted, and as such Marius' feet dangled only a few centimetres off the ground. But it was enough. He began to awkwardly carry him back to the wax tablet, determination lending him strength – it was no longer about teaching his brother to read, but now about having his way -, the smaller child thrashing and struggling the entire way, when the boy managed to squirm out of his grasp.

Scowling, Lucius turned on him, hands clenched into fists and hanging rigidly by his sides. "Marius, it's not funny anymore," he chastised, horrified when his tone sounded petulant and whiny. He was anything but – or so he tried to convince himself.

"What's going on here?"

Both brothers froze at the sound of their mother entering the room, and Lucius felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment; such a thing was incredibly difficult to hide as a ginger, what with his pale skin. He shot his brother a look, and felt his blood enflame as the corners of Marius' lips twitched, clearly struggling to conceal a smile. _Fantastic, now he's gotten us both into trouble, _he thought, slowly turning to face his mother. _What will it be this time? Standing guard at night so no predators or criminals can steal the horses? _Their mother's punishments were unusual, and never so much cruel as exhausting.

She glanced to her eldest son. "Lucius, I thought you promised to introduce your brother to the words of the learned ones today." Albina raised her eyebrows slightly. "Or am I mistaken?" Educated children had always been important to her, a notion she held close to her heart; raised on a horse farm in Mutina, she had been deprived of such a thing, and had never been able to completely relinquish her bitterness.

"No, mo—" Lucius began, but his brother cut him off.

"We were going to take a break," Marius piped up, staring up at his mother with wide, innocent eyes. Lucius had to resist the over-powering urge to roll his eyes. "Go outside to play. I fear my head'll fall off if much more knowledge gets crammed inside there." He let out a giggle, swaying his head from side to side. Their mother chuckled lightly despite herself, gazing down at her son with obvious love. Marius' expression became more stoic and submissive, though his eyes still glowed hopefully, and perhaps with glee as he knew she could never deny him such a thing, as he added, "If that is okay with you, mama."

Albina was the one to roll her eyes in Lucius' place, though she did so with a smile. "Very well," she replied, and Marius glanced at his brother with a grin. "Off you go then. Run along and have fun."

The brown-haired boy turned and bounded away, leaping into the air. From where Lucius watched him, he could still see Marius waving excitedly at the horses, who nervously shuffled under the shade of the small patch of trees as he began to shout. Without his consent, a small smile crept onto Lucius' face, dimpling his freckled cheeks. It disappeared as he felt his mother place a gentle hand on his shoulder, spinning him around to face her.

"Keep a close eye on him, Lucius," she murmured, leaning down to gently peck his forehead. Letting out a slight laugh, she added, "He's been getting more and more adventurous with age. Gods, I cannot believe he will soon have six summers." Now it seemed as though she were talking to herself, staring off into the distance at something that wasn't there, though her hand remained on her son's shoulder.

He nodded, straightening. A task, good. But it was absurd his mother even felt the need to specify he had to look after him. All he ever _did_ was look after Marius. And though his brother had him wanting to slap him in the face at times, he grudgingly admitted he loved the time he spent with him. Dearly. With that, Albina seemed to remember where she was and shooed him away, half-shoving him out the door so he stumbled and barely managed to refrain from crashing to the ground.

"And be back by the time the sun reaches the lone pine," she called after them; they could not afford pocket sun-dials. In any case, she had always argued that, with the perfectly able sun at their disposal, what need did one have for an ugly, cold thing stuffed in one's pocket? "I need to make you both presentable. We are hosting a dinner tonight for your father's friends. And keep him out of the mud!"

"We will," Lucius yelled back, glancing over his shoulder as he broke into a run after his brother. It would be just like him to go chasing after a snake, or decide to poke his head into a rabbit's hole, or perhaps swat at a wasp hive to see if it was empty. He laughed at the thought, the wind catching his voice as it slapped at his face.

It only took a moment before he was running alongside his brother; he dug deep and forced his legs to move faster, as did Marius, evidently, as it wasn't long before they were in the midst of a race.

"Have you learned a thing so far?" Lucius managed to choke out, following close behind his brother as he ducked under the fence that penned the horses in. The animals whinnied and scattered, a mother herding her boisterous colt back into the safe confines of the mares. In the other paddock, a pale grey stallion, separated from the females, tossed his head from side to side and beat at the ground with his hooves.

Marius began to reply, but was interrupted when his foot caught on a tree's root rising from the dry earth. He would have tripped, had it not been for his brother, who caught his forearm and steadied him; once he had regained his balance, however, he shoved him and raced ahead, throwing him an amused look over his shoulder. "Yes," the little boy answered with a scoff, now struggling to keep up with his elder sibling, breaths coming in gasps. "'Course."

"Recite some, then." Lucius turned to run backwards for a second, trusting his feet to guide him. At times, he was rather lithe, having found particular enjoyment in learning to walk swiftly atop the rickety rooftops of his family's home, when left to his own devices. Finally, he had found the satisfaction he derived from it not worth the beatings he endured for it. His mother had never liked to witness such punishment, though she was a strong woman, and as such had often made some excuse. At times, his father would force her to witness it, and afterwards she would take Lucius in her arms and scream and snarl at her husband. Any onlooker would think they were merely in an unhappy marriage, as so many were, but it was clear to those who paid attention that they loved each other like no other, as though each had been struck by Eros' arrow.

"Rather not." Marius shrugged, laughing as he caught up to his brother.

Lucius wanted nothing more than to list the reasons he shouldn't take being able to receive an education for granted, but at the sight of his sibling's joyful smile, he heaved a sigh. Almost completely forgetting himself, he let himself succumb to the fun, vowing he would force Marius to study twice as hard tomorrow. He could postpone it all he liked, but he wasn't getting out of it, no so long as Lucius could help it.

As they ran, they called to the horses, scattering them; evidently, that was an idea not very well thought through, as the creatures, in their panic, rounded on them, desperate to gallop to safety. The two brothers crouched low to the ground, staring wide-eyed as the hooves thundered around them, a wings-breadth from colliding with them. "Idiot," Lucius hissed to the boy beside him, who shot him a pained glance.

"Oh, come on," the elder brother grumbled, grabbing his hand and yanking him towards the outskirts of the paddock, the long, dry grass stinging his legs. Clambering over and under the fence once more, Lucius having to pull his brother out when his leg caught, they ran until they could no more. Exhausted and gasping for breath, they collapsed in the shade of the old barn. Grudgingly, enjoying the freedom, Lucius let out a chuckle, unable to hide the wide smile that spread across his face. His head lolled to the side, softly punching Marius in the side. Life, at that moment, was good in Ostia Antica. They were on their own, far away from the troubles of Rome, some 50 kilometres in the distance. And nothing could change that. Lucius wouldn't let it. When he became a centurion, one day out-ranking his former-Legionary father, he would never forget where he came from. And his brother would always be there, fighting by his side. He nodded at the thought, chest continuing to heave, blood pounding in his ears. Yes. Nothing could sound better.


End file.
